


Piece by piece she collected me

by emeraldsandivy



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/F, angsty fluff, ennui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:34:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsandivy/pseuds/emeraldsandivy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy comes home to a clean and quiet home, which can only mean that something is terribly wrong with Angie, but Peggy will not let her fall victim her own mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piece by piece she collected me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that I've been wanting to write for a while. As someone who is living with mental illness, the subject matter is very near and dear to my heart. I hope that I've done it justice.
> 
> The title comes from the song Piece By Piece by Kelly Clarkson.

Peggy arrived from work to a quiet home, the front hall light turned off and the kitchen clean and spotless. Her heart sank in her chest.

_So it’s one of those days, is it?_

Quietly divesting of her coat and slipping off her shoes, Peggy went out in search for Angie, her stockings a mere whisper on the wooden floors. After finding the library, study, and living room all deserted, she began to climb the staircase, feeling her way along the railing in the darkness.

Opening the door to their bedroom, Angie was right where Peggy expected her to be. Curled up and buried beneath a host of blankets, Angie lay in the middle of their bed, her back to the door, staring out the windows. Letting out a quiet hum of sympathy, Peggy gently made her way around the bed and sat down beside Angie’s cocoon, her gaze falling upon the fragile woman.

Angie did not look up at Peggy when she sat down. Her eyes remained unfocused toward the window and the soft light from the fading day illuminated the tear tracks that carved their way down her face.

“Oh, my darling,” Peggy murmured, reaching forward to brush the pad of her thumb across Angie’s damp cheek, before tangling her fingers in the loose caramel curls.

Angie’s eyes closed at the touch. A look of torment came over her features, as her small frame began to shake with silent sobs. They remained in silence for a few minutes, Angie’s tears soaking into the pillow, while Peggy continued to thread her fingers through Angie’s hair, scraping her nails gently against her scalp.

When Angie’s sobs had subsided, leaving behind a hollow look in her eyes that Peggy did not care for, the agent stood from her perch on the bed and knelt down before her lover, cradling her face in her hands. Still, Angie would not look at her, keeping her eyes downcast and vacant.

“My love,” Peggy whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “What do you need? What can I do for you?”

Finally, slowly, Angie’s eyes shifted until they were looking back at Peggy, their normally vibrant blue, dulled into an icy gray. A single tear spilled down her cheek, as she took a few shallow breaths.

“Stay,” she mumbled. “Please.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Peggy straightened up and peeled back the blankets, allowing Angie to shift over, and crawled into the bed next to her. She tucked the covers back around them, trapping in the heat, and opened her arms, but did not force her affection on Angie. There were days when her love did not want to be touched, but still wanted Peggy near her, so she always made sure to give Angie the choice.

Immediately, Angie wrapped her arms around Peggy’s waist and buried her face in her neck. Peggy held her close and rubbed gentle circles into her back, dropping a kiss into her hair now and then. Before long, Angie’s breathing had evened out and Peggy surmised that she had fallen asleep, finally able to relax in the arms of the person who loved her most.

Staying where she was, Peggy gazed out the window and let familiar memories tumble over each other in her mind. When Peggy had moved into the Griffith, she found that Angie would occasionally shut herself up in her room, claiming ennui, and would not be seen for the remainder of the day, sometimes even into the following evening. Peggy didn’t think much of it, knowing Angie had a flair for the dramatics. However, once they had moved into Howard’s penthouse, the heart of the problem came to be more obvious.

Angie managed to keep her condition to herself when they had begun living together, however, once their friendship had evolved into something more, secrecy became a thing of the past. Peggy could still recall the first terrifying morning when she discovered that Angie suffered from something much worse than mere ennui.

They had both had the day off, something, upon looking back, for which Peggy was grateful. Always the earlier riser, she had silently made her way down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Though Angie was far more adept when it came to the culinary arts, Peggy took special pride in her ability to cook the perfect eggy in a basket along with a side of fried bacon. She set to work, being conscious of the noise of the pots and pans, so as not to wake the sleeping angel above her.

Despite the smell of coffee and bacon, which never failed to rouse Angie, even from the deepest of sleeps, she did not make an appearance during breakfast. Although she figured Angie was just having a lie in, recuperating from the late night they had had the previous evening, Peggy couldn’t help but worry. She’d only known Angie to miss a meal when she claimed to be suffering from her ennui.

Peggy had turned off the burners and removed the pans from the stove and went in search of Angie, much like she had done this evening. As she had climbed the stairs, the faint sound of running water reached her ears, and Peggy concluded that Angie must have gotten into the shower and lost track of time. When she had knocked on the bathroom door and called out Angie’s name, there had been no reply. After several attempts, she had opened the door to a heartbreaking sight.

Angie sat beneath the steady stream of water, visible as she had not bothered to draw the curtain closed, curled into a tight ball with her head resting on her knees. Her shoulders shook slightly with small sobs. Still she did not respond when Peggy called her name.

After the initial shock of finding Angie in such a state, Peggy had shut off the water and coaxed Angie from the tub, wrapping her in a towel and setting her down at Peggy’s vanity to dry and dress her. It took two mugs of tea, and a great deal of convincing from Peggy, in front of the living room fire before Angie told her the truth: she did not suffer from ennui, but rather depression.

Subject to shock treatments as a child, Angie explained that she had pretended to be cured in order to escape the pain of the procedures. She learned that she could disguise her illness as ennui, a far more socially acceptable excuse, whenever she had bad days.

It had broken Peggy’s heart to watch the woman she loved seem so fearful and small, as if she were afraid that Peggy would cast her away or have her committed. However, Peggy had seen enough shell shock from the war to know that a person could not always escape the trappings of their own mind. She’d held Angie close and assured her that, whatever she would need, Peggy would always give it.

Shaking herself from the memories, Peggy looked back down at Angie. She looked younger in sleep and far more peaceful than when the agent had found her. Dropping one last kiss against Angie’s forehead, Peggy carefully disentangled herself from their embrace and softly padded over to the closet, shedding her day clothes quietly and changing into a slip and the red and black robe that Angie favored.

With a quick glance toward the bed to make sure Angie was still asleep, Peggy slipped from the room and down into the kitchen, carefully setting the kettle on the stove. As the water boiled, she quickly made her way to the library to collect her copy of The Scarlet Letter. She made it back to the kitchen just before the kettle had begun to whistle and switched off the stove. She poured the boiling water into two mugs with peppermint tea bags resting in them, Angie’s favorite. Tucking her book under her arm and picking up the two cups of tea, Peggy made her way back up the stairs, before Angie would wake up alone.

Her angel was still sleeping when Peggy reentered the bedroom. Quietly, she set one of the mugs down on Angie’s side of the bed, then made her way around to set her own tea down. She did not want to turn on the bedside lamp, for fear of waking Angie, so Peggy pulled out an emergency candlestick from the drawer in the bedside table, striking the match with expertise and catching the wick, before slipping back beneath the covers.

As if nothing had happened, Angie reached out for Peggy’s warmth and resumed her previous position; arms wrapped tightly around Peggy and burrowed into her side, still deep in her slumber. Peggy gave Angie’s waist a small squeeze and opened her novel.

Over the next few hours or so, they remained that way. Peggy moved as little as possible, only to turn a page or take a drink of her tea. Angie’s had long grown cold, but Peggy knew she wouldn’t mind, as it was the thought that counted. She was nearing the climax of her novel when she felt Angie shift beside her. Carefully marking her place and setting the book aside, she began to brush her fingers through Angie’s hair once more.

Angie’s eyes blinked open, and she lifted her head just enough to take in her surroundings before her eyes found Peggy, who was gazing down at her with a soft smile.

“Hello, my love,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Angie’s mussed curls.

Angie adjusted her body so that she could lay her head back down and still look up at Peggy. The agent noticed that her eyes had warmed up since she’d last seen them, their sky blue shining through the clouds of gray.

“Hi,” Angie mumbled, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Thank you for staying.”

It was something Angie always said whenever she had a bad day, though it was never really necessary. She knew that Peggy would always stay with her, whether or not she asked, but she still appreciated it all the same.

“Always, my angel,” Peggy reassured her, giving her a soft squeeze.

Shaking her head to rid herself of sleep, Angie began to sit up and gaze around the room, as if looking for something.

“What time is it?” she asked, just as her stomach grumbled loudly, causing her to blush.

Pleased to see the rush of emotion to Angie’s cheeks, Peggy sat up as well, keeping one hand on the small of the other woman’s back.

“It’s close to eight,” she explained, brushing the hair from Angie’s face. “And I’m going to guess you haven’t eaten much today, have you?”

A guilty look crossed Angie’s face, and she looked down at her hands as she shook her head.

“Hey,” Peggy coaxed, lifting Angie’s chin back up to look at her. “It’s okay, I can make us something, if you like.”

“You mean you can make us _one_ thing,” Angie teased quietly.

Peggy smiled, elated that Angie was feeling well enough to banter with her.

“Yes, well, we didn’t all have an Italian mother to learn from,” she countered, causing Angie to smile slightly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, leaning into each other and just savoring the quiet after the storm.

“Alright, love,” Peggy murmured, running her hand up and down Angie’s arm. “How about I make us some breakfast for dinner, and then we can eat in front of a warm fire with a bottle of schnapps and listen to the wireless, yes?”

Angie smiled and nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to Peggy’s cheek.

“I’d like that,” she said, standing slowly from the bed. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable and meet you downstairs, okay?”

“Alright,” Peggy replied, standing. “Let me know if you need anything.”

After she left, Angie changed slowly into her slip and light blue robe, and walked to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and cleanse it of the grime and tears she could feel clinging to her skin. As she stepped into the hall, she could smell the aroma of eggs and bacon floating through the house. She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Peggy keeping careful watch over the bacon as she flipped the eggy in a basket in the pan. Overcome with emotion and gratitude at the woman before her, Angie walked up behind Peggy, silent in her bare feet, and wrapped her arms around her English rose, hugging her close.

Peggy started at the touch, before leaning back into the embrace, resting her free hand over Angie’s arms around her middle.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Angie whispered thickly, tightening her hold on Peggy.

Setting the spatula down, Peggy turned in Angie’s arms and gathered her into her arms, smoothing down her hair.

“I will always be here for you, my darling,” Peggy promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

As she drew away, Angie curled her hand around the back of Peggy’s neck and pulled her down for a soft kiss. When they parted, Peggy turned back around, Angie still wrapped around her, and finished their meal, serving it all on one plate. Angie grabbed the schnapps from the cupboard and they made their way down to the living room.

A fire was already burning in the grate, and Angie surmised that Peggy must have started it while Angie was still upstairs. Peggy turned the wireless on low and led Angie right in front of the fire, where they lounged together on the floor and ate and drank lazily.

Eventually, Angie fell asleep with her head resting in Peggy’s lap. Peggy thought of waking her to take her to bed, but didn’t have the heart. Instead, she gently pulled herself out from under Angie and retrieved a pillow and blanket from the couch, and repositioned them both so that they were curled up against each other in front of the dying fire.

Their bodies would not appreciate their sleeping arrangements in the morning, but, as Peggy pulled Angie closer and buried her nose in the caramel curls, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm emeraldsandivy on Tumblr. Come say hi!


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